


Toaster Oven Instruction Manuals

by Ewebie



Series: Tumblr Shorts [24]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: ... well... not really... but I did this anyway because it seemed appropriate, CWB asked for this, Everyone knows exactly what I'm talking about but we won't need to name names, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, domestic fluff but no smut, sorry... i couldn't do the smut today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ewebie/pseuds/Ewebie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>John stood in the kitchen doorway and sighed. “Sherlock…” It was a plaintive and all too common sound. “What the hell is all of this?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Sherlock frowned and tightened his arms where they were crossed along his chest. “I don’t know.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toaster Oven Instruction Manuals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cwb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwb/gifts).



> Dear CWB, 
> 
> I am not mocking you. I had absolutely no intention of this happening. I was trying to be a good writer and work on my WIP, but then... Well... You did put the idea in my head.  
> Hashtag sorry not sorry.
> 
> xo  
> ~e

John stood in the kitchen doorway and sighed. “Sherlock…” It was a plaintive and all too common sound. “What the hell is all of this?”

Sherlock frowned and tightened his arms where they were crossed along his chest. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” John muttered. “Of course.” He brushed past the worktop and set the bags on the only clear surface he could find: the hob. He continued to mutter until the groceries were stored in their designated spaces. Then he turned to examine the worktop again. Sherlock hadn’t moved, but the furrow between his brows had deepened. John sighed. “Right. So… What exactly is this?”

Sherlock huffed. “I told you, I don’t know.”

John cocked a brow. “Well where did it come from?”

“Post.” Sherlock gestured with his chin, but didn’t bother to move.

“Whose post?”

“Ours.” Sherlock said flatly. “Clearly.”

“Ah, ok then.” John glanced at the box, but it was practically unadorned. Plain. Brown cardboard. Mailing label. He pursed his lips. “It’s addressed to you.”

“Yes,” Sherlock drawled.

John sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “Right.” Tea. He needed tea. Maybe it would all make sense with a cuppa. So he went through the motions, efficiently procuring two mugs of properly made tea. He handed the second to Sherlock. “So…”

Sherlock took a sip. “I don’t know.” He shook his head slowly.

“Looks a bit like the Meccano set I had as a kid.”

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth twitched. “You can’t possibly be that old.”

“Oi! It was my dad’s.” He bumped Sherlock’s shoulder with his own. “Git.”

They sipped their tea in silence for a few moments, surveying the neat piles of metal and screws and plastic. “I must have ordered it,” Sherlock admitted finally.

John bit back a smile. “Must have.”

“There’s no receipt. I checked all five email accounts. And yours.”

“Ta,” John murmured, flipping a few pieces over and back, poking at the order Sherlock had laid them in. “And it didn’t come with… I don’t know… Assembly instructions?”

“Funny you should ask,” Sherlock’s tone was amused, but his expression was not. He flicked a single sheet of paper in front of John’s face.

John set down his tea and took the sheet in both hands. He rotated it ninety degrees and frowned. He rotated it again and squinted. “Is that… What language is this?”

“No idea.”

“Well, if I’m reading these pictures correctly, if we can… put these together… Somehow… We’ll have a nice looking box with nipples.”

Sherlock snorted. “Just what I’ve always wanted.”

“You ordered it.”

“I did, didn’t I.”

John bit his lower lip and squinted again. “It’s possible we can do this.”

“Mmn,” Sherlock hummed in agreement. “But do we want the repercussions of constructing an unknown device?”

“The guy in the picture looks pretty happy with the tit box,” John offered.

“It’s not a tit box, John.”

“How do you know?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and snatched the instructions away. “Juvenile.”

John chuckled. “Come on, it can’t be all that hard.”

“This first step says you have to insert piece D into slot B.”

“Oh. Maybe this is hard.”

“What?” Sherlock asked distractedly.

“You have to insert the D, do you?”

“No.  _ You _ have to…” Sherlock forcefully resisted the urge to laugh. “You are such a child.”

“You like it when I insert the D,” John grinned, encroaching on Sherlock’s personal space.

“Oh please.”

“Maybe that’s why the cartoon is so happy,” John nipped at Sherlock’s neck.

“John,” Sherlock huffed in a way that didn’t even remotely suggest that he wanted John to stop.

So John didn’t. “Don’t need an instruction manual for that.”

“No.” Sherlock purred. “No you don’t.”

 

~o~

 

John trudged out of the bedroom, scratching at the back of his scalp and yawning. “Sherlock? I’m making coffee.”

“Mmn,” Sherlock hummed from somewhere on the couch.

John filled the kettle and flicked it on, scrubbing at his eyes. He turned to rest his back against the counter as the water boiled and he blinked himself awake. Then he frowned. “Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Is that a toaster?”

“Apparently.”

John examined it cautiously. Looked fairly normal. But when… Oh. “So, you figured out how to put it together then?”

“Yup.”

“Does it work?”

Sherlock shrugged loud enough for John to hear it. “Haven’t tested it out yet.”

“Right. How?”

“There was a website on that instruction sheet. Took a while, but I found it. Turns out they have instructions in other languages.”

“Ah.” The kettle clicked off. “So… Should we give it a try?”

“No, John. Let’s leave it pristine and untouched.”

“Berk.” John finished making the coffee first; delivered a mug to Sherlock, who was in fact stretched out on the couch, reading the paper; then shifted the toaster to the counter and plugged it in.

“Are you testing it?”

“Yeah, hang on!” John popped to slices of toast into the slots and pushed down the tab. The hum of the elements quickly escalating beyond normal levels. “Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Did you follow the instructions?”

“Yes.”

There was a loud popping and the toaster and contents both burst into flames. John yelped and freed the plug from the outlet before scrambling for the fire extinguisher. “Sherlock!”

“Huh,” Sherlock stared at the smoldering remains of the toaster. “Well that’s disappointing.”

John just shook his head. “You didn’t follow the instructions.”

“I did,” Sherlock insisted. “I just… Improved upon them. A little. Tiny. Miniscule. Bit.”

“You git.”

“It was supposed to be more efficient.”

“Of course it was.”

Sherlock pouted. “I wanted toast.”

John huffed and gave him a long look. “You know what. You can go down to Speedy’s and get us some breakfast. I have to get ready for work.”

“Fine.” Sherlock waved a hand. “I’ll see if I can’t repair it later today.”   


“Absolutely not!” John set the fire extinguisher down with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ll get us a new one. One that’s already assembled, thank you.”

“Dull.”

“Tit.”

Sherlock grumbled and went to fetch his coat.

“Oh and, Sherlock?” John called. “This time. You read the bloody Toaster Oven Instruction Manual!”

It was quite possible that Sherlock blew a raspberry at John as he headed for Speedy’s.


End file.
